Enjoy The Silence
by Shena1
Summary: Waking up to the sound of his voice is intoxicating. Makes her feel safe. She'd know his voice anywhere... She'd always hear him... even now... when his heart is shattered... (Sometime early S6 - No spoilers) - COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Beckett…"

Her stomach flutters at the sound of his voice, a low, raspy whisper. It's intoxicating, relaxing, comforting. So many years waking up on her own. So many years of solitude. But now? Now she wakes up every morning, warm and sated, wrapped up with the man she loves. Adores. Can't live without.

"Beckett…"

A tickling sensation travels up and down the length of her arm, leaving a fiery trail in its wake. '_Mmmmmm…. so good.' _Shivers ripple through her as the pad of his thumb traces light circles on the inside of her palm. Tingles rush throughout her body from the tips of her fingers straight down to her toes. It's electric. She loves it when he touches her.

She just feels so completely loose, completely undone.

"So beautiful…" he mutters, almost inaudibly. But she heard him. Even in the most crowded space, she would always hear his voice. Sweetest sound in the world.

She knows he's watching her. He does that. Watches her while she's sleeping. As if she's a book that he's reading, studying, wondering what other twists and turns in her story might be revealed each day. She can picture in her mind the look on his face - the gleaming eyes, adoring smile, pure love radiating from every pore.

He continues to tantalize her skin, brushing soft, slow, concentric circles on the back of her hand with his finger tips... round... and round... and round... unsettling her very core. Goosebumps form on her supple flesh as the fine hairs on her arms stand on end.

She wants to reach over and touch him. Wrap her arms around his neck. Run her fingers through his soft, silky hair. But she can't bring herself to move. She's just so relaxed, like her body has melted into a cloud.

"Wake up, Kate…" His voice is soft, gentle. "It's time to wake up."

His fingers feather across her jaw, slowly tucking a stray hair behind her ear. His palm comes to rest on her cheek as his fingers continue to tease her temple, smoothing along her eyebrow.

The luscious aroma of coffee and vanilla permeates the air around her. '_Could this be a better morning?'_ she wonders blissfully. Waking to Castle's arousing touch, the delicious smell of caffeinated ambrosia filling the room.

She'd put off her own life for too long. Honouring the victims, giving a voice to those who had lost theirs - that had been her calling. Her purpose. For so long. She'd almost forgotten what pure, unadulterated happiness was. She'd been so afraid to give her heart, so afraid to be vulnerable. But she's changed. She's more now. She's more because of him. And he is more because of her. Two lost souls. Two lost souls that found their way...

She dove in. No regrets.

And here they are now. Greeting each morning together. Living their lives for each other. Embracing life fully.

Moving had drained her. Packing up everything. Carrying boxes all day. Finally making the leap - moving from her TriBeCa apartment to join him in his gorgeous SoHo loft. It had been an emotional decision. She so adored her apartment… but it was time.

Not a muscle in her body wants to move. She just feels so heavy. It's strange - she doesn't remember feeling so sluggish after her last move. Of course, she didn't have quite as much stuff to pack after the explosion...

His fingertips continue to trace the delicate lines of her cheek… jaw... mouth... as his other hand gingerly caresses the hand that lays at her side. She wants to lean into his touch, but her head feels so heavy, completely lax, as if it has sunk into the pillow.

"Kate, you have to wake up…"

The cadence in his voice alters. It wavers a bit, a slight panic lacing the tone of his words. She tries to grip his hand, but her fingers remain immobile. Unresponsive.

_'Castle...'_

She can hear him swallow slightly as his voice cracks. "Come on, Kate. Open your eyes..."

Fear suddenly overtakes her. The desperation in his voice all-too familiar. She heard it once before. Only once... _"Stay with me, Kate. Don't leave me, please. Stay with me, okay? Kate, I love you…"_

She again attempts to squeeze the hand that is currently caressing her own.

Still nothing.

Words flow through her mind, but refuse to exit her lips. _'Castle! Castle, talk to me! What's going on?' _

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**This is what comes of the PCA website running frustratingly slow at night.**

**Hope to get the next chapter up soon.**

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**So there you go... Judge away.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Words flow through her mind, but refuse to exit her lips. _'Castle! Castle, talk to me! What's going on?' _

Before she can be soothed by the husky sound of her fiancé's voice, there's a light knocking that echoes in the distance.

"Mr. Castle… Can I have a moment?"

Beckett does not know this voice. It's soothing, friendly, reassuring… but foreign.

She feels Castle's thumb trace the sensitive flesh just below her thumb joint. "Of course," he mutters softly.

"I'm Doctor Turow. I've been assigned to Miss Beckett," says the calming female voice.

"The neurologist," Castle states bluntly.

_'Neurologist? Castle… what's going on?'_

"That's correct."

The familiar sensation of both of Castle's large, strong hands now enveloping one of hers comforts her and terrifies her simultaneously.

"Can you tell me what happened, Mr. Castle?"

_'What happened, Castle? Tell me!'_

"I… I'm not entirely sure," he stammers quietly, voice breaking painfully. "I… I was in the bedroom… packing a box…"

He goes silent for a moment, but Doctor Turow doesn't say anything.

"Kate had been in the living room... packing her books… then I heard her yell... and a loud crash…" His voice cracks. One hand abandons hers, the sound of flesh wiping against skin. Did he just swipe at his eye?

This motion is foreign to her. She's seen him tear up… but rarely. It worries her. _'Castle? Are you crying?...' _she wonders, anxiety levels rising.

"She was just lying there... at the bottom of the stairs… books scattered everywhere…" His voice trails off.

_'Stairs? What stairs? Castle… what stairs?!'_

"The elevator in her building was out of service…" he mutters to himself. "We should have waited. We could have moved stuff another day… any other day…" His words dissipate as his fingers trace the contour of her cheek, trailing down to her jaw.

_'I fell?...'_

"...I think she hit her head on the edge of the step…" His quiet voice cracks slightly.

_'Castle… What's wrong with me?'_

"She's just got a concussion, right?" Castle pleads.

After what seems like an eternity, the doctor releases a slow breath. "No, Mr. Castle…"

The silence unsettles her stomach.

"It's been over ten hours, Mr. Castle…"

_'What?!...'_

Castle still doesn't speak, but his nimble fingers tighten around hers.

The sound of pages flipping catches Beckett's attention.

"The CT scan revealed a subdural hematoma..."

After a long silence, he practically chokes as the single word escapes his lips. "Coma?"

_'Coma?!'_

Doctor Turow sighs quietly. "I'm afraid so."

_'How long?...'_

A single, stray tear falls from his cheek, impacting the back of her hand. "When will she wake up?"

"It's hard to say."

_'Castle...'_

She hears her fiancé clear his throat before speaking. "Tell me."

There's a soft exhale before the doctor speaks, her voice low, comforting. "The scan revealed a small but significant collection of blood outside Miss Beckett's brain. However, it's a bit too soon to tell with regards to the extent of the injury…"

"...and?" Castle inquires quietly after a moment.

"Some subdural hematomas stop and resolve spontaneously. Others require surgical drainage…"

_'Brain surgery?...' _Her mind begins to falter.

Everything begins to spin. Faster. Unbalanced. Uncertain.

She's falling… falling from a precipice into a deep chasm below. Into darkness. Nothing below but darkness.

She wants to scream, but nothing is coming out. She wants to open her eyes.

If only she might open her eyes!

She tries desperately to grasp at something… anything… but her hands won't respond. Her fingers won't move. She can't move… she can't breathe… she's falling...

Suddenly, Castle's hand squeezes hers, tightly. Like he knows she's falling. And he's right there. Always there.

To catch her.

"Stay with me, Kate…" His thumb traces lightly across the back of her hand, his voice both distance and close.

"Mr. Castle?…" the gentle voice of the neurologist cuts through the silence that has enveloped them. "Has Miss Beckett…"

"Detective," he chokes as she feels his smooth digits wrapping around her wrist.

"I'm sorry?..."

"Detective Beckett." She can hear his voice steel itself, pride swelling in each word he utters. "She's an NYPD Detective."

She wants to touch him... run her fingers across his face… squeeze his hand… kiss his soft lips. But she can't. And it wrecks her.

"Forgive me," the doctor replies after a brief moment, her voice soothing. Understanding. "Has Detective Beckett suffered any other recent head injuries that you know of?"

Castle's voice wavers a bit, searching for the words. "Uhh… yeah," he mutters after a moment. "She was tackled to the ground a few weeks ago by a suspect." He pauses slightly before adding, "The floor was concrete…"

Kate listens intently to the scribbling of pencil on paper.

"Anything else?" the doctor asks gently.

_'In D.C… when I was surprised by Brad Parker…'_

"About two months ago…" His voice is reduced to a whisper. "A suspect slammed her against a post… she only told me about it a few weeks later…" He swallows. "...mentioned her head still hurt a bit… but she doesn't get headaches…"

_'Castle...'_

"It's possible that Detective Beckett may have been suffering from several concussions already," the neurologist explains gently. "This may have contributed to her fall…"

"I should have seen it…" he mutters, mostly to himself. "I should have known something was wrong…"

"We'll do everything we can for her, Mr. Castle," the doctor reassures before padding towards the door.

"Doctor?" Castle calls quickly.

The footsteps stop.

"She _will_ wake up, won't she? Eventually?" His voice comes across slightly frantic.

The long silence is deafening.

Doctor Turow releases a heavy sigh. "I truly hope so, Mr. Castle," she replies before the door closes behind her.

* * *

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**Someone challenged me to write something emotionally wrought...**

**My forté is humour and banter (I think), but I love a challenge.**

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**Please know that I have absolutely no medical expertise what-so-ever, so internet research is all I've got to go on. **

**I endeavour to make everything I write accurate, but if you - dear reader - happen have more medical knowledge than I, please forgive any liberties I may take in the future in order to tell this story.**

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**As always, I love to know what you think.**

**Judge away.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Jim…"

Castle's deep voice echoes in her ears, waking her from the oblivion of silence she'd been trapped within.

"Rick." The soft voice of her father acknowledges the presence of her fiancé.

_'Dad?'_

"Any change?" Castle whispers, his footsteps padding lightly towards her.

Her father releases a heavy sigh. "No…"

_'Dad? How long have you been here?'_

"Jim… you've been here for hours."

"I know…"

_'Hours?'_

"You should go home." Her partner is so close, the alluring scent of his cologne teasing her senses. "Get some rest."

There's a long, painful exhale.

"It's been three days," her father sighs.

_'Three days?' _

The sensation of Castle's warm fingers running across the side of her face eases her surging panic as he brushes a few loose, chestnut tendrils from her cheek. "I know…"

_'Three days...'_

Castle had stayed with her while the nurses came and went. Alexis had come by a few times… asked how Kate was doing, brought her father coffee. She had had to listen to her prognosis being repeated when Lanie and the boys had visited. But her own father? How did she not know he'd been here?

"Captain Gates came by while you were gone, Rick."

_'Gates was here too?...'_

"Kinda glad I missed her..." Castle chuckles quietly, but he's unsuccessful in his attempt to mask the distressed agony creeping into his throat.

The harrowing silence encloses around her. It's excruciating.

_'Castle! Say something!'_

"Do you want me to get you anything, Jim? Coffee?"

She can picture the slight smile that is most likely teasing at her father's mouth. "No… but thank you. I think… I think I'm going to go home for a while… sleep a bit," he mutters hypnotically as his chair scrapes back across the linoleum floor. "You'll call if anything changes?'

"Of course." Castle's reply is quiet. Comforting. Reassuring.

She listens to her father's heavy steps as they distance themselves from her. "This never gets any easier…" he mutters, exiting the room.

The door latches in the distance as her fingers begin to tingle at the sensation of his strong, familiar digits wrapping around her own. They're alone. Castle's alone. Three days.

She focuses. _'I can do this...'_

Kate clears all thoughts from her mind. All worries. All anxiety. Gone.

Her mind meditates solely on her hand. The hand currently entwined with that of her future husband. He needs a sign. He needs to know she's still here.

If she can just move her fingers…

She pools all of her inner strength. Everything she has. _'Come on…'_

Every ounce of fortitude… determination… she pushes.

_'Come on!...'_

Nothing.

Not even the slightest twitch.

Beckett's heart sinks. Utterly despondent. Completely crushed.

His strong fingers slowly, methodically stroke along the smooth skin on the back of her hand, calming her.

The light ministrations continue as his other hand ever-so gently caresses her cheek, fingers grazing the edge of her jaw. His palm is warm. She can feel his breath on her skin. He's so close - and she can't touch him. All she wants to do is touch him. The sensation of his tender lips feathering lightly against her own makes her pulse race… and her heart shatter.

"I know you're here, Beckett," he whispers almost inaudibly. "Stay with me."

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**Things are always darkest before the dawn...**

**Judge away.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

How long?

Laying in this hospital bed, starch white sheets wrapped around her torso.

Immobile.

Vegetative.

How long has she been here? Like this?

Nurses have come and gone, Castle silent during their presence - often distancing himself, getting out of their way. But always there. Watching over her.

Doctor Turow, her neurologist, had come to check on her periodically - as far as Kate is aware. The sympathetic female voice had last assured Castle that the MRI (_'When did I have an MRI? How did I miss that?'_) revealed that the hematoma had stopped bleeding. Trephination would not be necessary.

"So... you're saying that... you won't have to drill into her skull?" Castle had choked out, relief lacing his words.

"No…" the doctor confirmed. Kate could hear the smile in her voice. "The bruising is healing on its own. All we can do now is wait."

Which was now frustrating Kate to no end.

Waiting.

Just waiting.

And it's excruciating.

If she is healing, why isn't she regaining consciousness?

Warmth courses through her as the tingling sensation of a warm palm traverses the length of her arm, his fingers delicately smoothing her temple. That simple, affectionate touch fills her with an intense longing - one that she can not reciprocate.

"I'm so sorry…" he mutters.

_'Castle...'_

"Kate…" his nimble fingers tease the wispy strands beside her ear.

_'Don't be sorry, Castle...'_

"If I'd seen the signs… if I'd helped you carry the box…"

_'Babe, no...' _

"This is all my fault," he chokes as his large hand squeezes her thin, smooth arm.

_'Castle… don't blame yourself...'_

"I know you'd tell me this isn't my fault, Kate… but I just can't… I can't…" his voice breaks as she feels his forehead press against her shoulder.

It kills her inside. The torment - it utterly destroys her that she can't move. Can't speak. Can't respond in any way. Can't do anything.

It's agony.

Complete and utter torture.

The thunderous silence reverberates off the walls. She's drowning in it. Like she's been swallowed whole. She wants to scream… yell… shout… _anything _to drown out the numbness of her surroundings.

_'Talk to me Castle…'_

"I just don't know what to do… what to say…" he whispers against her shoulder.

_'Say something reassuring...'_

"It's been five days, Beckett…"

_'That's not reassuring, Castle!'_ Eyeroll, ear grab, frustrated sigh, anything, just something she could actually do. She wishes, with all her might, but she… just… can't. Her body is betraying her. She has been betrayed by many things in her life, yet, even after her shooting, slowly but surely, she could once again rely on her body. But now… just… nothing.

"...but you're not getting out of our engagement that easily," he grins, using her own words against her. Her heart flutters.

Even in the darkest moments, he never gives up on her.

On them.

On hope.

"I survived a deadly toxin," he adds quietly, grazing his palm along her midsection, warming her core. "You _will _pull through this."

For the first time, Kate feels comfort within the silence. Like a warm cocoon encircling them. Keeping them safe. His soft, nimble fingers trail along the side of her temple, sending shivers along her spine. The gentle caress of her face, his velvety touch - it feels like coming home.

She'd smile if she could.

"Mr. Castle..." Kate is alerted to her neurologist's voice in the distance. The bubble burst.

The slight tugging at her hand tells her that Castle has shifted his body, but he's not willing to let go of her. Like he is anchoring her to him… to life.

"Doctor Turow?"

"I just… I spoke to Detective Beckett's father about this already." The doctor's voice is flat, formal. Kate could hear a slight hesitance that made her stomach uneasy. "He felt that I should inform you as well since you're her fiancé."

Castle's grip on her fingers tightens. He clears his throat but remains mute.

"I'm not saying that this will be necessary… I just need you to understand… well…" the neurologist begins, searching for the right words.

"Go on…"

Doctor Turow's breath evens. "Detective Beckett signed a do-not-resuscitate order…"

_'Oh my god...'_

Castle exhales. Slow. Laboured. His fingers squeeze hers. Hard.

_'I'd forgotten...'_

"...but we're not at that stage yet," the female doctor insists quickly. "I just need you to be aware of her wishes… in case..." her voice trails off.

"In case she doesn't wake up," Castle finishes, his words a painful whisper.

_'Castle, no…'_

Doctor Turow's voice travels to the opposite side of the bed. "This will only need to be addressed if the coma is beyond doubt irreversible," she adds softly. "But it is a reality of the situation."

_'But I signed that years ago! When I was young! When I started as a cop!' _Anxiety begins to whirl in her stomach. _'I'd forgotten! Things have changed... I've changed!' _

"Reality?" he mutters, his warm palm wrapping possessively around his partner's hand.

"It's been several days, Mr. Castle," the doctor sighs. "She remains unresponsive..."

_'Unresponsive?!'_

"...and even if she does wake up, there could be irreparable brain damage."

Her thoughts begin to cloud. _'Castle...'_

"Even now," the doctor continues, voice a gentle whisper, "the readings show that… huh…" There's a long, agonizing pause before Turow mumbles, "That's interesting..."

"What?" Castle exhales quickly, insistent. "What's interesting?"

"Just now…" she mutters aloud. "There was a…" The neurologist's voice trails off.

Castle's grip remains tight as she listens to the unsettling hum and rhythmic beeping of the life-support monitors beside her. There are no words spoken for several tense moments.

"I need to go verify something," Doctor Turow articulates as she hastily traipses towards the door. "I'll return shortly, but I don't want to promise anything yet."

_'Grasping at straws...'_

"Doctor…" he pauses, taking in a deep breath. "If there is a straw," Castle states softly as he squeezes Kate's hand again, "please grasp at it."

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**Didn't plan on updating so quickly... but apparently I was causing a lot of heart ache... sorry (kinda). ;)**

**Thanks to fooxoo for helping me out with some phrasing when I couldn't get it right.**

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**Judge away... :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The hypnotic cacophony of the various medical monitors beside her permeate her mind. It's mesmerizing. And annoying.

The sounds aren't usually quite as pronounced. Typically, it's white noise - in the background. Most of the time, Kate doesn't even hear the beeping at all. But for some reason, at this moment, it's the only thing she hears.

And it's driving her nuts.

_'Castle, talk to me...'_

"Any change?"

She's taken aback by the distance of Castle's voice. He's not beside her. He's in the doorway. When had he left the room?

His light footsteps traipse towards her as another male voice replies, "Uh… there wasn't…"

_'Who the heck?...'_

"What do you mean by '_wasn't_'?"

"Uh… there _was_ nothing…" the other man notes, "But I think I saw a minor jump in her brain wave... just now…"

"Really?!" Castle exhales excitedly, rushing to her bed-side, entwining his fingers through hers as his other hand smoothes the hair from her forehead.

"But it might not mean anything, Mr. Castle…"

"Nurse Dees, I'll take anything at this point," he breathes happily as his hand rakes through her long hair.

"I'm gonna get Doctor Turow…" the nurse remarks, his footsteps padding quickly across the room.

"Hey," Castle calls softly, "Nurse Dees?… thanks."

"For what?" the young man replies from the doorway.

"For watching over my fiancée for the past few days." She could hear the smile in Castle's voice.

"Just doing my job," Nurse Dees replies, voice soothingly smooth. "But you're more than welcome, Mr. Castle."

"Rick," the author replies, tracing his thumb along the outside of her hand. "You can call me Rick, Nurse Dees."

"Mickey," the young man replies before shutting the door.

There's a moment of stunned silence before Beckett feels her hand vibrating ever so slightly within Castle's grip. He's shaking…

_'Castle?... Is everything alri-'_

"Mickey Dees," Castle giggles under his breath.

She'd roll her eyes… if she could. _'Seriously?'_

"So many McDonald's jokes… so little time," he chuckles happily. "I hope he comes back soon, cuz I'm kinda craving a cheeseburger now."

_'Castle, really?...'_

"And maybe we could have fries with that!" he practically chokes, voice elated, joyful.

Kate's heart lifts. The intense weight that has been crushing her… crushing them… seems to dissolve almost instantly. So many days of anxiety. So many hours of dreaded uncertainty. And all it took was an - admittedly unfortunate - name to break the tension. Illuminate the darkness… even if just for a moment.

The sensation of Castle's warm fingertips tracing the lines of her cheek inflames her very core. His hand gently skims the edge of her jaw, tucking a few strands of her long, chestnut hair behind her ear.

"It's so true, Kate…" the writer mumbles as his lips dust lightly against her cheek.

_'I know,' _she muses blissfully._ 'Even on the worst days-'_

"There's a possibility for joy," he breathes into her skin.

* * *

The shrill squeak of door hinges alerts her to someone entering the room.

"I apologize that took so long, Mr. Castle," exhales the comforting voice of Doctor Turow. "I needed to get a second opinion. I wanted to be absolutely certain."

"Certain of what?" Castle inquires, the back of his knuckles grazing the sensitize skin on her wrist.

"When I was here this morning, I noticed a slight spike in Detective Beckett's brain activity. I'd dismissed any jumps before because I didn't believe them to be significant. However, due to what happened while it jumped, I became curious."

"What… happened?" Kate knows Castle is confused. As is she.

"You spoke, Mr. Castle."

"I- I'm sorry. I don't understand," Castle stammers, squeezing his fiancée's hand. "I've been speaking to her for five days."

"Yes," the neurologist agrees. "Yes, you have. That's what makes this interesting."

"But I was told that it was good to talk to coma patients," Castle insists, still evidently bewildered.

"And that is true, but that's not the interesting part."

She feels Castle's strong hand tighten its grip, as if he's afraid she's going to vanish if he lets go. He inhales deeply and waits.

"For the past few hours this afternoon, I've been consulting with a colleague. We've been going over Detective Beckett's EEG readings as well as my findings. But when Nurse Dees found me about an hour ago and told me what he'd noticed on the monitor while doing his rounds… well… that confirmed my suspicions."

_'Suspicions?...'_

"Suspicions about what?" Castle swallowed.

"I cross referenced all of the visitor log-in times with the nurse visitations and treatments that have taken place since Detective Beckett arrived," the doctor began. "There were spikes each and every time you were in the room with her, Mr. Castle."

"And that's abnormal?..." Castle asked softly.

"Not quite," the neurologist replied. "What is abnormal is that there were spikes _only_ when you were present, Mr. Castle."

She feels her heart clench as Castle tenses.

"I've honestly never seen anything like this," Doctor Turow states clearly, precisely. "She's responsive, Mr. Castle. She's responsive _only _to you."

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**I've never had so many people follow any of my stories before. I'm floored.**

**Thanks, everyone, for the support. :D**

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**You can blame fooxoo for "Mickey"...**

**You can blame me for the horrid McDonald's jokes... :P**

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**So the drama continues...**

**Judge away. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"I've honestly never seen anything like this," Doctor Turow states clearly, precisely. "She's responsive, Mr. Castle. She's responsive _only _to you."

"What do you mean, she's only responsive to me?" Castle inquires after a moment, evidently baffled by this revelation.

"Exactly that, Mr. Castle," the neurologist confirms. "When you were around, when you were speaking, her brain waves indicated various levels of activity. However, during those moments when you were absent, her brain seems to have been sedentary."

Castle exhales very slowly, very deeply.

"Mr. Castle, would you indulge me for a moment?" the female doctor requests. "Could you please touch your fiancée's arm?"

It feels like electricity jolting through her body as his knuckles slowly coast up and down along the length of her forearm. Her body tingles in response. Never in her life has his touch been so incredibly stimulating. '_Mmmmmmmmmmm...'_

She hears the light sound of pencil scratching across paper.

"Okay, now don't touch her for a moment," the doctor instructs. "Just…"

The silence lasts an eternity.

_'Castle, tell me what's going on...'_

Castle's deep voice breaks the silence. "Why are you lifting her arm up and down?"

_'She's doing what?...'_

Doctor Turow explains. "Every study that I have ever read have all concluded that comatose patients don't register the sensation of physical contact."

"Oh." His voice is flat as he registers what he's being told.

"And from what I understand from these readings, it doesn't appear as though Detective Beckett feels anyone's touch..."

Castle releases a heavy, defeated sigh.

"...except yours," she finishes.

_'W- What?...' _Beckett's mind stalls.

"W- What?..." Castle sputters at the same time.

"I can't explain this, Mr. Castle. I'd need to run more tests, but they'd be superfluous at this point," the neurologist states, moving around the bed, heading to the door. "The important thing, Mr. Castle, is that she's responsive."

The door squeaks open before the soft female voice speaks again. "Evidently, the two of you are connected in a way I can't begin to fathom," the doctor observes. "But one thing is quite certain. Apparently you, Mr. Castle, are the key to bringing her back."

The door latches.

"Oh my god…" Castle mumbles after an eternity of silence. "Oh my god… Kate, I… I have to…" his voice is in a frenzy as he palms her lower arm briefly.

"Kate… I'll be right back." A chair scrapes loudly against the floor. "I promise… I won't be long… I just… I have to-" The door slams shut, cutting off his words.

And then there's nothing.

Nothing.

* * *

The creak of the door rouses her mind from its murky shadows. The obscure emptiness of its endless void.

_'Castle...' _ Kate breathes a metaphoric sigh of relief. Living in darkness… it seems even worse now. Knowing what the situation is. Not knowing what she has possibly missed.

"Good…" he mutters, "nobody's here. We'll have to be quick though."

_'Castle?' _She's used to being confused by her fiancé, but now he's got her quite perplexed._ 'What are you talking ab-'_

"Just a sec."

She feels the gentle brush of his palm against her shoulder, her bicep, her elbow.

"Kate…" he whispers with such affection that she feels herself melt. "Someone wants to say hi."

_'Someone else is here? Who?'_

His fingertips begin to play with the sensitive skin on the inside of her elbow. "Okay… I'm gonna put you on speaker…"

"Katie?" The soothing voice of Jim Beckett, slightly digitized, echoes in her ear.

_'Dad?'_ She's suddenly overwhelmed by an onslaught of emotions. She wants to laugh, she wants to smile. Mostly she wants to cry. Tears of pain and of joy.

She wishes she could hold his hand. Comfort him as much as she knows he wants to comfort her.

She's suddenly soothed by the unexpected sensation of a large hand cocooning itself around hers. _'Castle…'_ The all-too familiar grip wraps around her palm instinctively.

She knows what Castle's doing… he's giving her this moment. To be with her father. To feel his hand holding hers. Just for a moment.

"Katie…" her father pauses. "Life never delivers anything that we can't handle." The large hand squeezes hers. "Remember that." She hears him swallow. "Rick?..."

"Right here," Castle whispers in reply.

"You'd better end this call before you get caught using your cell in the hospital…"

"Yeah," Castle breathes, light amusement in his tone.

"And Rick?..."

"Yes Jim?"

"Thank you… for giving me this moment…" Her father's voice is heavy, yet deeply sincere. "Thank you for giving me my daughter…"

No reply.

It takes a lot to render Castle speechless. It doesn't happen often. But her father seems to be able to do it quite easily.

"G'night, Rick," her father states, relief lacing through his voice. He adds, "Love you, Katie," before the line goes dead.

_'Love you too...' _she muses, the quiet moment bittersweet, yet all-too brief as the silence is suddenly shattered.

"Oh my g… NURSE!"

Castle's frantic shout causes a slight panic to rise in her chest. _'Castle?! Castle, what is it?!'_

His footsteps rush to the door, the latch clicking, the hinges creak loudly. "SOMEONE?! ANYONE!"

"What is it, Mr. Castle? What's wrong?" an unfamiliar female voice inquires speedily, multiple sets of footsteps padding quickly towards her bed.

"LOOK!"

_'Castle… tell me what's going on!'_

"Nurse!... It opened!" he exclaims. "Look at her mouth!... Kate opened her mouth!"

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**To all the anonymous readers who have left comments to which I can't reply, I want to thank you so very much for all the kind words of support. They make me smile so much. *hugs***

**To concreteangel16 who called me "amazeballs" in a review - sending you some loveballs! :D**

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**More hopeful or more angsty? :P**

**Judge away.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"What is it, Mr. Castle? What's wrong?" an unfamiliar female voice inquires speedily, multiple sets of footsteps padding quickly towards her bed.

"LOOK!"

_'Castle… tell me what's going on!'_

"Nurse!... It opened!" he exclaims. "Look at her mouth!... Kate opened her mouth!"

Then there's nothing. No touch. No words. The deafening sound of silence.

After a brief moment, she hears feet shuffling around her bed. A couple of beeps and clicks. The sound of keys being depressed. Something that sounds reminiscent of a pen clicking. But there's nothing being written…

_'Castle, tell me-'_

The husky voice of her partner interrupts her thought. "Anything?"

"Her pupils still dilate, Mr. Castle, and her Oculocephalic Reflex is fine, so that's a good sign," the female nurse responds.

"But what about her mouth?"

"Are you sure you didn't touch her face… nudge her jaw open by accident?"

"No…" Castle exhales quickly, impatiently. "I was holding her hand. I wasn't anywhere near her face."

"There's nothing in her readings to indicate any significant variation in her brain activity." The nurse releases a long, laboured sigh. "It is important to keep in mind, Mr. Castle, that a coma patient may exhibit reflex activities which mimic conscious activities." There is a pregnant pause before she adds, "It was most likely an involuntary reflex or muscle spasm."

_'What about the neurologist?' _Kate wonders.

Castle exhales softly before asking most respectfully, "Can you get Doctor Turow to have a look?"

"She's off tonight, Mr. Castle, but I'll make sure she comes to check on Detective Beckett as soon as she arrives for shift tomorrow."

"Thank you," her fiancé breathes quietly as footsteps pad towards the door, the latching sound echoing through what must be a relatively confined space.

The brief silence is awkward, uncomfortable.

Until she feels his reverent touch. The comforting effect is instant the moment his heated palm caresses her cheek, his thumb tracing lazy, random patterns across the tender flesh under her eye.

His heated breath next to her face electrifies her senses. "I know you believe in the everyday magic of life, Kate…"

_'Castle...'_

"...but I don't care what the scans and the tests say," he whispers in her ear, low and earnest. "You and I… we're proof that the impossible is possible."

For once, she agrees with him.

* * *

"Hey, Dad."

Alexis' voice fills the room.

"Hey, Pumpkin."

Kate smiles on the inside.

"Brought you a coffee…" Alexis whispers, a smile lacing her words, "and a change of clothes."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Castle says, releasing his grip on her hand. She can only assume he's reaching for the coffee.

"Mmmmm… flavour country," he mutters blissfully, the delicious aroma of espresso permeating the room.

_'Called that one...'_

"I've got class tonight, so I can't stay long," his daughter explains softly, apologetically. "But do you need anything else?"

_'I know what you need...'_

A chair scrapes along the floor as Castle replies, "I wouldn't say no to a hug…"

She's seen it so many times that she can visualize it easily in her mind - the image of father and daughter wrapped in a warm and loving embrace fills her with a sense of calm. Of solace.

_'My family...' _she muses during the silence of the moment. _'This is my future...'_

She wants this future. She's fought hard to get to this place in her life. She's battled so many personal demons, so much pain and sorrow. So much hardship.

She has finally found happiness. She has finally achieved peace.

And she's not about to give up now.

She renews her resolve.

_'Castle… Stay with me...'_

* * *

It's been a while since Alexis left.

A few hours maybe?

Castle had changed his clothes (giving her a play-by-play that taunted her more than it soothed her), had guzzled his liquid gold, and had even given her a taste of the caffeinated beverage by lightly pressing his lips against hers upon draining the last drop from the cardboard travel cup. Beckett relished the intense flavour of the coffee as it dissolved into her lips.

She's comatose and he still manages to provide her with coffee. She just wishes she could repay him with a smile. Or more.

She wishes she could do a lot of things.

She wishes she would wake up.

But she knows wishing isn't going to be enough. She has to _want _it.

Castle hasn't spoken in a while. She can hear his heavy, rhythmic breathing beside her. He's asleep. But his presence is enough to keep her from falling into darkness. The sensation of her hand and wrist encased within his large, strong hands makes her feel safe. Protected.

Because that's what partners do.

But no matter how he'd attempt to argue it, Castle is going through this alone. And Kate hates that feeling with intense indignation. She needs to be there for him just as much as he's been here for her.

She wants to wake up.

She _needs_ to wake up!

But everything is so dark. A blank palette of nothingness has saturated her mind for too long. She needs to have something other than nothing suffusing her thoughts.

She wants to see him!

Him. His face.

As she did before, Beckett clears her mind. _'Embrace the darkness to see the light_...' she meditates. She focuses all of her energy, not on her fingers this time, but on the thought of her fiancé.

The satin of his luscious lips...

His intense yet comforting eyes…

His strong, smooth jaw…

She hasn't seen his face in days, but she doesn't need to. She's memorized every line, every curve. She's mapped every inch.

The thought of his soft, silky brown hair becomes so clear in her mind. The way it flops over his forehead when he sleeps. The sight of it always gives her the desire to rake her fingers through it, to gently trace the lines of his forehead and temple with her fingertips. To revel in the enticing sensation of her digits tangling themselves in his silken mane.

The thought of it rips at her insides. Taunting her. Cruel torture.

The images in her mind are hazy. Not quite focused. It's so difficult… the intense concentration… so draining. She doesn't have his voice to help her, anchor her. But she persists. She can visualize his hair. It's not vivid, but she can see it. She so desperately wants to see his eyes. The gorgeous ocean of blue that she could drown in.

_'Come on, Beckett… picture his eyes...'_

She envisions his head shifting slowly... moving… stirring… Then she suddenly realizes why the images are hazy… so lifelike… and it both excites her and terrifies her.

She wants to scream at him. Squeeze his hand. Anything to get his attention. _'Castle! Castle… look at me!' _

The light piercing the slight crack between her eyelids is so painful, excruciatingly painful. Her eyelids are heavy, so very heavy. They begin to droop.

Castle sighs in his sleep, his breathing changing from that of deep slumber to half wakefulness. He rubs the side of his face against the stiff sheets of the hospital bed, groaning softly.

_'Castle!… Turn your head!...'_

He gently wipes the sleep from his eyes, lifting his face from the mattress. She strains to keep her eyes from closing.

_'CASTLE!'_

She can't move. She can't speak. She feels like her breath has stopped. She has to keep her eyes open… but she's exhausted. They're so heavy. The light is searing… Got to keep them open.

Her lashes start to tangle together as they meet, fluttering as she labours to keep her eye lids apart. Just for a second longer.

His blue eyes lock on her face. His mouth cracks open. A gravelly whisper ekes from his throat. "Beckett?"

And the darkness swallows her again.

* * *

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**Did a little research... **

**Medical professionals will test the integrity of brainstem function of a comatose patient via the Oculocephalic Reflex - also referred to as the "Doll's Eye Sign". Essentially, the patient's head is quickly moved to one side and then to the other. If the brainstem is functioning properly, the eyes will lag behind the head movement and then slowly assume the midline position. **

**I didn't know that before.**

**This fic is certainly giving me an interesting medical education. :D**

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**I've never had such a response to any of my fics before. I'm humbled. Thank you all.**

**To Reviewers:**

**_* alyssakatic _**_and __**Human **__… for almost killing you due to my cliffhanger-y chapters (sorry… did it again)_

**_* krishynes _**_and __**GeekMom**__… for almost knocking you off your chairs_

**_* Adele-Madeline Heels _**_… for testing your patience… err… impatience level_

**_* jamiewaskel _**_… for making you "EEEEEEEKKKK"_

**_* FoxSearchlight_**_ … for making your compliments come out as frustrated ARGHs_

**I'm sorry… kinda... :D**

**(If you've read the Ch. 5 author's note of "Whisper of a Heart" by Trinxy, you will understand)**

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**I hope I didn't punch anyone in the gut too hard.**

**Judge away. :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"I know what I saw, Doctor Turow," Castle insists. "She opened her eyes!"

"And I believe you, Mr. Castle," the calming voice of the female neurologist replies. "I just want to ensure that you realize that this is the first step… on a very tall ladder. Regaining consciousness from a comatose state is not like how it's shown in the movies."

Castle exhales heavily as she feels him gently stroking the length of her arm.

"It will not be instantaneous. The reality is that Detective Beckett may drift in and out of consciousness several times, being awake for only minutes at a time. And when she does awaken fully, she may find herself in a profound state of confusion, she may not know where she is or how she got here, and she might even suffer from dysarthria."

_'Dysarthria?'_

"Which is?..." Castle mutters inquisitively.

"Well... essentially, it's the inability to articulate any speech," the neurologist explains softly, "among other disabling issues."

Castle releases a deep, laboured breath. His grip on Kate's hand increases its pressure as she is immersed in a cloud of uncertainty. She was sure she'd wake up. She was sure that everything would be fine, that she would be fine. Normal.

"I'm not saying that this _will_ happen, Mr. Castle, but… depending... she _may _also have to relearn how to walk," the doctor continues, voice soft, sympathetic. "I just need you to understand that she might be just fine… or she may never recover completely."

She'd never considered…

_'Don't go there, Kate!...'_ Beckett snaps herself from her momentary trepidation.

She'd almost frozen to death, almost been mauled by a tiger, almost drowned, almost been incinerated. She's been shot in the heart.

And she survived.

_'Don't let fear win...'_

She's not sure if she was trying to remind herself of this or if she was hoping to convey this to Castle, but the slow, methodical sensation of two fingers tracing gently along the length of her slim index finger makes her believe she's successfully done both.

"It's been six days, Mr. Castle," the neurologist states quietly, sensitively. "Being comatose for that long is-"

"You don't know her," Castle sputters insistently, cutting off the doctor mid-thought. "Kate's a fighter."

His fingers twine with those of the hand laying by her side while a large, warm palm comes to rest on the side of her face, his thumb gently caressing her cheekbones, sending waves of heat streaming through her body. "She's a survivor."

* * *

For hours, Castle has been talking to her, encouraging her, pleading with her to open her eyes again.

For hours, she's been straining to do just that.

To no avail.

Yet she continues to push… toil… struggle.

She will not yield.

Because the way he looked at her… those piercing blue eyes staring straight at her. Through her. Gazing into the depths. Reading all of her secrets. All her mysteries. All her fears. All her desires.

Just as he has catalogued all of her facial expressions, she has memorized his. And the way he looked at her just before her name spilled from his lips - she's never seen that look before.

It was only a second, the briefest of moments. But she can't get it out her mind.

She's seen terror and despair. Acceptance and infatuation. Lust and adoration. Understanding and impatience. She's seen him infuriated. She's seen him remorseful. His face has been a canvass on which a plethora of emotions have been painted…

But this time?

In that split second when his blue eyes locked with hazel… when past, present and future flashed through the recesses of her mind… when there was harmony between utter discord and complete peace…

In that brief moment, the look in his eyes was an unmitigated enigma.

And it haunts her.

Once before, he'd watched her eyes close, believing he'd never again see them open. She hoped… prayed... he'd never have to experience that again.

Yet, he did. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She has control over her thoughts… but nothing else. And it's infuriating.

The frustration of being unable to communicate, of being unable to move, of being unable to see... Now that she has opened her eyes - albeit briefly - her sense of irritation has been amplified significantly.

But no matter how much she wants to respond, her body seems to have a very different agenda. She hates not knowing. She hates not being in control. And right now, she's burdened with both.

However, Castle is right. Kate Beckett is a fighter. She does not surrender just because things get a bit difficult. She has challenged corrupt politicians and she has taken down serial killers. Compared to that, lifting her eyelids should be a cinch.

She exerts herself once more, laboring. _'Come on!...'_

But her body has other plans.

Her concentrated efforts are moot as her eyes remain shut. Lids glued together.

Uncompliant.

Stubborn.

Locked.

_'I did it before… I can do it again,' _she steels herself. _'I can.'_

"Kate… relax." Her fiancé's deep, soothing voice pierces the hollows of her mind. "You'll wake up when your body is ready."

Her heart swells in her chest. He's so steadfast. Always willing to wait for her. His unlimited faith in her continues to astound her. Gives her confidence and strength when she is starting to lose hope.

The comforting sensation of his fingers tangled with hers makes her feel safe. Loved. A glowing sense of peace surges through her veins. She knows in this moment that no matter what, he will always be there.

Because he believes in her.

And she believes in him. In them.

She yearns to touch him. Kiss him. Hold him. His thumb traces light, random patterns along the inside of her wrist. Shivers race along her vertebrae in response to his touch, fire filling her core. It's pure, unadulterated ecstasy. He gives her hand a gentle, loving squeeze as his other hand rests on her flat stomach.

"Kate..." he whispers. "I'm here."

She tightens her grip in response.

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**Darned fic... It's making me learn stuff and become all edumicated and what-not! :P**

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**To reviewer Minerva89: I am so sorry to have messed with your feelings so much. It's hard to deal with feelings when your feelings having feelings and you're not sure which feelings you ought to feel. :D**

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**Hugs to fooxoo for giving me words more eloquent than "blah blah blah" when I got stuck...**

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**Almost at the end... stay with me.**

**And as always... Judge away. :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It's been hours since she squeezed his fingers, but Castle's hand has not disengaged its contact with hers. If even a slight movement occurs again, he wants to feel it.

He needs to ground her.

He needs to ground himself.

Doctor Turow had come by a few times to check on her.

"Everything looks good, Mr. Castle," the female doctor had said, most likely looking at the various monitors. "Her neurological activity is promising."

"Her eyes have opened a couple of times, Doctor..." Castle had muttered, his voice hopeful, yet reserved.

_'They did?'_ How had Kate not realized this?

The kindly neurologist assured the writer that this was perfectly normal. That comatose patients who are in the early stages of re-awakening sometimes show clear - although minimal - signs of cognitive recovery. "Detective Beckett's eyes may open and close several times," the doctor had explained. "However, it would be due most likely to involuntary muscle movement. Her brain might not yet be registering what her eyes are seeing."

"So what do I do?" Castle had asked, the pad of his thumb mapping delicate, tantalizing circles on the inside of her palm.

"Just keep talking to her."

So, he's been doing just that. Talking to her. Telling her stories. Rhyming off random factoids that would normally elicit a roll of the eyes. Revealing utterly ridiculous plot ideas that will _never _make an appearance in a Nikki Heat book. Reminiscing about Alexis when she was a child. Recounting what wild and crazy ventures his mother is currently undertaking.

Anything that might keep her mind active. And his occupied.

* * *

She's just so uncomfortable. Laying stagnant on the industrial hospital bed. So different than Castle's soft, pillow-top mattress. It's not right. It's not home.

She wants to stretch every muscle in her body.

The cramping in her toes is excruciating.

_'God, what I wouldn't give for a foot massage...'_

However, her feeling of discomfort is momentary.

_'My toes are cramping… Oh My God! CASTLE! I CAN FEEL MY TOES!'_

* * *

His voice is heavy, horse. He's exhausted. Castle desperately needs sleep but is stubbornly refusing to rest. And she understands why. He's doesn't want to be asleep if and when she wakes up. Not again.

"Hey, Mr. Castle…"

The familiar voice of Nurse Dees whispers tentatively from the doorway.

"Hey Mickey," Castle greets the nurse. Her fiancé's voice is light, pleasant, no hint of mirth in his expression. Either he is too tired or the fast food joke is no longer funny. Kate suspects a combination of the two. "I told you... please call me Rick."

"Rick…" the young man utters, padding his way towards the bed. "Just thought you could use some caffeine..."

The sound of a cardboard cup contacting the bedside table paired with the aroma of strong coffee teases Kate's taste buds.

"...considering you don't seem to want to sleep at all," the nurse concludes, his footsteps rounding the bed towards the monitors.

"Thanks," Castle whispers appreciatively.

"Not a problem," he replies after a moment as he makes his way towards the door. "Sorry if it's not the best coffee. The McDonald's kiosk down the hall is the only one open this late at night," he adds before the door shuts.

_'Wow...'_ she muses.

"Universe really loves irony, eh Beckett?" Castle murmurs rhetorically, sipping the hot beverage.

Her fingers tickle his palm in response.

"K-" Castle practically chokes on the liquid. Quickly putting the cup down on the table, his now-empty fingers brush affectionately across her cheek and down her neck as he maintains his tense grip on her hand. "Kate?..."

A thunderous silence echoes throughout the room.

Minutes pass.

Nothing.

The beeping from the monitors begins to reverberate in her ears.

_'Castle, say something...'_

The sensation of his lips ghosting against her knuckles sends a wave of intense tremors across her skin. "I love you," he mutters, barely audible.

An extremely quiet, incoherent "mmehm..." escapes, moments later, from the back of her throat.

* * *

"Kate..." Castle encourages, hand gracefully stroking up and down the length of her forearm.

His voice is weak, depleted. He's so very tired.

It's been hours since he drained the last of the sludge that masqueraded as coffee. He'd practically choked each and every time he swallowed. "I'd take that battery-acid monkey pee you guys had in the precinct over this stuff any day," he'd muttered, bracing himself before downing his final gulp. Kate was pretty sure it was taking every ounce of strength he possessed not to regurgitate.

But he'd needed the caffeine. Even if it meant drinking that… stuff.

Evidently desperate to stay awake.

The rough stubble on his chin scratches the back of her hand momentarily as he presses his velvety lips against her fingers. "I'm not going anywhere, Kate… just need to stretch my legs for a second," he whispers into her skin.

She can feel the smile on his mouth as he ghosts another kiss on the inside of her palm, then delicately lays her hand back down on the mattress next to her hip. Her attention is drawn in the direction of the sound of his chair scraping along the linoleum flooring. As his footsteps pad around the bed, something soft - cushiony - contacts her left cheek.

_'What did you just put beside my face, Castle?'_

"Oh my gosh… Kate!"

His voice is coming from her left, but not directly beside her. As he quickly traipses towards the foot of the bed, the downy sensation on the side of her face disappears.

_'What was that all about?'_ she wonders.

His footsteps rush around to her right again, the chair being dragged closer to the head of the bed. The familiar soft sensation brushes against her right cheek as she hears Castle sit down beside her.

"You followed me, Kate," Castle whispers excitedly as he combs his fingers affectionately through her hair. "As I was moving around the room, your head turned from side to side... like you were watching me!"

* * *

It feels like needles. The horrid pain of thousands of tiny needles piercing the skin from inside her body.

The nerves.

Even thinking about moving hurts, but it's also exhilarating. Her fingertips curl ever-so slightly around the side of his hand which is enveloping hers. The discomfort is agonizing. Like the sensation she last felt when her foot fell asleep. Only, at this moment, it's much more severe.

And she's never been so elated.

"Try again, Beckett…"

Her fingers curl a bit more, intense pain shooting up her arm and down her spine.

"Tighter, Kate," he whispers softly. "You can do it…"

Cautiously, she constricts the grip on his hand. Squeezes gently. Twice.

* * *

His head is resting against her thigh, the pressure of the side of his face warm and welcome. His fingers are still twined with hers, hands nestled beside his hair. His breathing is deep, heavy. She has no idea when he fell asleep, but she's glad he did.

The humming and beeping of the monitors beside her accompany his rhythmic exhales in a lovely, soothing symphony amidst the silence that fills the air. Nothing. There's nothing else. No footsteps in the hallway, no chatter outside the door. Must be night.

The room is dull, dark. Serene.

The penetrating slice of dim, murky light causes her to wince. She's stared at darkness for so long. Too long. Her left eye cracks again slowly, barely separating her lashes. The obscure, opaque shadow of his form fills her sight line. Her eyelids flutter as she lifts them a bit more, straining against the pain of the faint light hitting her retinas.

His silky, brown hair is flopped across his forehead, his facial features soft, relaxed, at peace. She's missed this more than she can begin to fathom. She's missed looking at him. Watching him. Admiring him.

Their hands rest together laying beside his cheek, fingers tangled, yet his grip on her hand has slackened. Deftly, she elongates her index finger, stretching it out, just able to trace it along the side of his bristled jaw line.

His lip twinges as her finger tip slides off the edge of his chin, his eyelids flickering. Her body quivers as his blue eyes widen, immersing themselves in the depths of the hazel eyes looking back at him. "Kate?..." he sputters sleepily.

Her middle finger joins her index finger as the paired digits lightly graze the edge of his unshaven jaw a second time. His reaction is instantaneous as he rushes to his feet, one hand locking her slender fingers within his muscular grip as his other hand reaches out to caress her cheek.

"Kate?" he breathes, his eyes searching hers, expressing so many emotions all at once. Terror... elation… panic… relief… love… hope… everything.

Her eyelids droop momentarily, relishing the sensation of his palm caressing her cheek, his fingers toying gently with her ear as he tucks the loose strands behind it. Her heart throbs violently, pounding against her chest.

She opens her eyes again without much difficulty, the sight of her partner's face in front of her, glowing. She watches a single, glistening tear trickle down the side of his cheek. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips as he smooths his fingers through the greasy, unwashed hair cascading down her back, his face completely lit up as she beams lovingly at him.

"Hey…" she exhales weakly.

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**Encore performance by Mickey Dees due to popular demand... (forgive me :P)**

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**I'm completely awed by the response to this... almost 300 follows? Wow. Thank you!**

****HUGS** to all of you!**

**I promised light at the end of this tunnel... and I always keep my promises. )**

**I promised hurt/comfort/romance... you got hurt and comfort for 9 chapters, so...**

**One more chapter to come.**

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**As always... Judge away. :D**


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The sensation of teeth nibbling on the helix of her ear rouses her from her dreamy state.

His warm breath tickles her neck as he mutters a heated, seductive whisper. "Happy anniversary."

"Wrong date, Castle," Kate smirks playfully, the side of her head sinking into the pillow.

The welcome warmth of his body crowding her back sends electricity jolting through her, her skin tingling in response.

"Wrong anniversary, Beckett," he grins, gently skimming strands of soft, chestnut hair to the side, brushing his lips along the sensitized skin just behind her ear.

A low, lusty groan emits from her throat as one of his hands snakes underneath her sleep shirt, tracing a delicate path across the tight lines of her abdomen. She shivers, desire building in her stomach as she feels his tender lips painting hot, lingering, open-mouthed kisses against the nape of her neck. Her head sinks deeper into her pillow as his mouth plays a symphony against her supple flesh.

The sensation of his hand grazing along her stomach, sliding her thin cotton top up… up… up... Her body is set ablaze, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His warm fingertips tease circles around her navel before inching towards her chest, gently mapping the underside of her breasts. Her breathing is heavy, laboured. She gasps as his teeth pull the loose fabric of her over-sized cotton t-shirt across her shoulder, tongue tasting her skin, mouth traveling along her flesh inching back towards her jaw. She feels like she might spontaneously combust.

"Then what…" she moans heavily as he sucks her earlobe between his wet lips, "...are we…. _mmmmmm_... celebrating… Castle?"

Her leg slides back, skimming the side of his foot, pressing her heel into his leg as she grazes it seductively along the length of his calf. Up… down… up… down… up... His desire is evident, his arousal pressing into the small of her back.

"One year ago today…" he mutters, lips tracing tender kisses along the edge of her jaw as his palm teases the underside of her breasts, coming to rest over her heart. "...You came back to me."

The memories flood her mind, overwhelming her. A maelstrom of emotion. It had not been an easy journey. In retrospect, compared to the recovery and rehabilitation period, waking up from her comatose state seemed like a walk in the park. She had drifted in and out of consciousness a few times, which was frightening enough, but the idea of sleeping was terrifying. Not for her so much as it was for Castle. He had hovered constantly, checked on her all the time. Woke her up several times in the middle of the night - just to ensure she'd still wake up.

Eating had been even more unpleasant. She had been kept on the IV for a short while, but the nursing staff insisted she make an effort to eat solid food since she'd been unconscious and inactive for a little over a week.

For a few days, her efforts were naught. Food would not stay down. At all.

And it wasn't very fun when they finally removed the catheter either.

Also, her legs were admittedly quite unsteady when she attempted to walk again, having been immobile for such a significant amount of time. She had had some difficulty supporting her own weight the first time she attempted to stand. Castle was always right there by her side if she needed help, but Kate wasn't a quitter. Not at all. She was tenacious. She persevered. She improved. She got better. For him.

And after a few more days of constant monitoring by the ICU nursing staff, Doctor Turow cleared Castle to take her home.

Not that her subsequent recovery time was any better. The unprovoked mood swings were an annoyance for a while, but Castle was infinitely patient and took it all in stride. The situation wasn't improved at all by the fact that she was not allowed to drink alcohol for many weeks - even after she was cleared for duty.

However, the worst part was that she was prohibited from drinking coffee for several months due to the caffeine. She tried decaf for a while - Castle even hit up almost every specialty coffee shop in Manhattan to find a decaffeinated blend that she'd like - but it wasn't the same.

She decided just to go without… but she did compensate a little, developing a habit of kissing her fiancé after he'd drunk his morning brew just so that she could enjoy the flavour. He never complained. They began as innocent pecks - lightly brushing her lips against his - but the kisses intensified gradually to the point where Castle almost made her late for work a few times. She never complained.

Thank goodness she wasn't prohibited from being intimate, because for the few weeks when she was dealing with unwarranted mood swings, she also experienced an intensified sexual appetite - even more so than usual. Castle never complained about this either.

But eventually, with time, things normalized.

And now, one year later, they find themselves revelling in the memory of yet another challenge they overcame together. The Universe threw down the gauntlet and they laughed in its face.

"I still don't understand it, you know," Beckett exhales as she turns within his strong arms, her chest pressing up against his. His biceps tighten, squeezing her closer.

Her eyelids droop as he brushes his lips against the tip of her nose. "What's that?" he mutters, trailing soft kisses under her eyes, along her high cheekbones.

"Mmmmmm…" she groans as his nimble fingers tease the edges of her clavicle, the side of her neck, the curve of her shoulders, tantalizing her aroused flesh. "Why I only responded to you…"

"I think you do..." he teases slyly, rolling her body underneath his, muscular thighs pressing tightly against her hips as he straddles her legs.

She hums as he slowly slides her shirt up her torso, pads of his thumbs tormenting her electrified flesh in the most delectable way. Her back arches in response as his tongue tastes every inch of her neck, her jaw. Her arms follow the lead of his palms as they stretch, reaching above her head as the cotton top glides past her face, off her arms. He tosses it to the floor. She returns the favour in kind, her agile fingers tangling around the hem of his t-shirt, quickly pulling it over his head.

A slow, deep breath escapes her lips as she reaches up, enthralled, grazing her fingertips carefully along the underside of his pectoral muscles.

It's ethereal, as if she's in a trance. Captivated. She can feel the heat of his eyes staring at her face as she continues to trace the outline of his bare chest... his strong abs... his tight waist... his well-defined, muscular arms. She watches her fingers dance along his skin, goosebumps forming on his tanned flesh. Salacious. He's breathing extremely heavily. So is she.

"Really?..." she exhales deeply, her stomach clenching with need as his palms smooth their way along the sides of her naked torso.

He gently pulls her hands from their contact with his bare chest, pushing them down against the pillow on either side of her head. Her heart is racing, swelling, as he presses the open palms of his hands against hers, their fingers entwining.

"You can't tell me after all of this," Castle mutters, nuzzling the underside of her jaw, "you don't believe in soulmates…"

"No…" she smiles, eyes gleaming as he lifts his head quickly to survey her face.

He's shocked. Completely floored. And maybe a bit hurt. "No?..."

She locks her gaze, peering deep, deep into the dazzling blue spheres staring back at her, mesmerized. Her right palm tenderly smooths the side of his face, slowly mapping the frame of his jaw, the crinkles beside his eyes. Her sensitized fingertips reacquaint themselves with every contour, every scar, every line. He's holding his breath, as is she - afraid to shatter the intensity of the moment. The magic of it.

Her thumb ghosts along the center of his mouth, teasing the top lip, then the bottom, parting them slightly... a blazing inferno building within her core. His penetrating glare intensifies, eyes dark and aroused…

He feels it too.

But he doesn't move. His eyes remain locked on hers.

Her fingertips join her thumb as they slowly trace his glossy lips, traveling up his defined cheekbone, smoothing the edge of his eyebrow. He exhales ever so slowly, heavily, as her hand continues its exploration, gently teasing his soft, mussed hair. She studies the way it has flopped across his forehead, messy and gorgeous. Her fingers rake along his scalp… slow... seductive… tangling themselves around the short hairs at the nape of his neck, massaging the back of his head. Reveling in the feel of him. The luscious ecstasy of touch.

Her eyes refocus on his gaze, deep and dark. And serious.

"No, Castle…" she exhales softly, sensually, drawing her palm towards his cheek. "I don't believe in soulmates…"

She draws his lips to meet hers… warm and soft and delicious. Lips swollen and breath heated. Their tongues tangle, engaged in a beautifully choreographed tango of passion before she momentarily halts the kiss. Palming his face affectionately, she positions his face just far enough away from hers so that their eyes can focus.

She searches his eyes for a brief moment, as the warm, heart-melting smile she reserves only for him lights up her face. As he leans in again, hungry and aroused, his muscular body weighing heavily against hers, she whispers fervently into his mouth, "But I'm starting to…"

**FIN**

* * *

xxxxxxx

**There is a universal truth we all have to face, whether we want to or not. Everything eventually ends. ;)**

**Thanks to everyone who stuck this one out with me.**

**As my first go at writing angst, it was a challenge - thanks to everyone who reviewed. Your support was priceless.**

xxxxxxx

**Next story I write is going to require a lot less research!**

**Wow... I now know a lot more about comas and head injuries than I did 2 weeks ago! :P**

xxxxxxx

**And as promised, you got romance. Hope it made up for the last few weeks of heartache.**

**As always, I love to know if you enjoyed my story.**

**Judge away. :D**


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